


Steadily

by YacheBerries



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), NormalBoots, PBG Hardcore series
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, i love s4 oh my goodness, mcj helping dean cope and then fluff ensuing, my weakness tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12999633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YacheBerries/pseuds/YacheBerries
Summary: Dean doesn't know if he can recover after the deaths of his close friends. However, soothing words and actions from a certain McJones may be able to help.





	Steadily

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted,, to write some fluff. With a dose of angst. My favorite ingredients.
> 
> Minecraft Hardcore Season 4 spoilers!!
> 
> Also, this fic is in no way supposed to be a representation of the real people! It's just a silly and fluffy little fic about their in-game personas.

In any other reality, relaxing after witnessing your friends die and constructing their graves could seem impossible.

Dean was too used to it, however.

No, he wasn’t used to the deaths; deaths of close friends. He wasn’t used to building their graves, either. What he was used to was the cool down, the calm following the storm. He was far, _far_ too used to that.

The mountainous islands Dean and his party called home seemed a lot emptier now. He sat, forlornly, on the top of their home island; a quaint little place, their home literally built into the island. His back erect, he scanned the close horizon before him, from the bridge that connected their home island to the farming island to the “Lonely Creeper” island, as Caddy had dubbed it, where the two newly-built crosses stood. Dean had been up there just a short while ago, constructing the crosses along with Austin, Jeff, and McJones, while the sun was setting. Now, the sun had almost fully sank, twilight illuminating the glossy surfaces of the graves, as well as the shimmering dark waves below. His comrades would usually be bustling around the group of islands; however, they favored staying inside due to the approaching night.

Dean sighed, pulling his gaze from the crosses to stare at the ground before him. His thoughts were swimming around too fast; thoughts of what happened, and what could’ve been prevented.

* * *

_It was too quick._

_Dean knew Barry wasn’t in good shape. He had slumped against the walls of the Nether fortress with all the exhaustion that could be fathomed. There was a sickly, black hue to his skin; an effect of the Wither Poison._

_However, the moment he recovered from the spell, Barry had charged up the stairs. He slew another enemy, only to be caught off-guard when a small Zombie Pigmen’s sword ripped through his abdomen._

_Dean had seized up, feeling Caddy do the same behind him. Horror settled in. Abject horror. It was less than a second that Dean and Caddy were sprinting back down the stairs; Dean, on his part, reacting in his hyperbolic, however fitting, way._

_Caddy fell too soon after._

_It was a blur, a careless mistake. A swipe of a sword out of panic to the flank of an adult Zombie Pigman. Dean was so close, as was Jeff, but it was too late. Caddy was swarmed, with the haunting last words of “I’m so sorry; I panicked!”._

_Emptiness finally settled in._

* * *

 

Dean hadn’t even realized how deep in thought he actually was, until his attention shifted down and he realized how harshly he was gripping the earth and grass beneath him. The moon was already out; pale light stretching out to meet the fiery yellow glow projected by the many torches places around the islands.

With an uneven sigh, Dean closed his eyes. Conflict was settling in his hollowed mind, as he was unsure of where to settle his thoughts on; the pains of the past or the fears of the future.

“Are you coming inside, Dean?”

A bit of Dean’s defense crumbled at the voice as he opened his eyes. McJones was kneeling beside him, looking over Dean with apparent concern. A faint wind was blowing, brushing his hair aside and lightly billowing the uneven, pale white trench coat he wore, showing off a bit of his exposed chest (who was he supposed to be again? No one had known. Was he a king?).

Dean always had a bit of a hard time looking at McJones. It wasn’t that he was unbearable to look at; quite the opposite, in fact. He was almost too handsome for Dean’s perpetually active brain to comprehend. Of course, he wouldn’t admit that to anyone, and the only one who had heard this admission was McJones himself, a bright pink blush tinged on his face. To say the outfit he currently donned was revealing, though attractive, would be too obvious, but settling his gaze on McJones’ worried face was no better.

Shifting himself to turn more towards McJones, Dean mumbled a response. “Yeah… at some point, I will.”

McJones’ brow furrowed. “’Some point’? That’s a vague study of time.”

“I just need time to think,” Dean responded flatly. McJones’ presence was making his fast-beating heart begin to sink.

Dean didn’t know what his blunt response would be perceived as, but McJones apparently took it as an open invitation to sit down. “Well, if you don’t mind me doing so, I’d like to join you. It’s no good to be outside at night.”

Dean could’ve responded many ways; insist that he was fine, scoot far away from McJones, throw his arms around him in an outburst of tears. Instead, he chose to stay silent.

“Dean, please,”

Teary eyes met a pair of concerned, worried ones.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat.

The sight of worried, bespectacled eyes was far too familiar.

“What’s wrong?”

* * *

 

_“I’m gonna die, Dean, I’m gonna die!!”_

_Those words rang through Dean’s head as he sprinted across the red, blocky Netherrack beneath him. McJones sounded close enough, even once he leapt over the protruding blocks on Netherrack in front of their portal. Zombie Pigmen were chasing them, Austin and Jeff were screaming on the other side of their headsets; there was no time for coherent thoughts._

_As Dean hurled himself into the Nether portal, he could swear McJones was just out of the corner of his eye, beside him. His vision swam, consumed by purple._

_“Are you through the portal?!” Dean involuntarily yelled through his headset as he was tossed back into their base._

_“No… I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” McJones coughed out._

_Dean glanced around, finally realizing that McJones was not with him. It felt like his heart stopped, but he didn’t let the sinking feeling stop him from barreling through the portal again._

_“Where are you, where are you, WHERE ARE YOU?” Dean choked out, voice hoarse._

_“I’m still in!” McJones managed to respond._

_“Alright, I’m coming back!” Dean leapt out of the portal, scanning around for McJones. He found what he was looking for, just to his left._

_McJones was right next to the portal, just a few measly blocks away, but was backed into a corner of Netherrack, four Zombie Pigmen directly on him._

_“DEAN, HELP!!” McJones shouted, though, it wasn’t necessary. Dean had already leapt into action, cleaving his iron sword through the corpses._

_Once the Pigmen had been taken care of, Dean lifted his eyes to meet those of McJones. He looked terrible, disheveled; armor dented, hair out of place, glasses fogged, panting. Worried._

_He dashed past Dean, towards the portal, and Dean following swiftly behind, shaken._

_Too close._

* * *

 

“You know damn well what’s wrong,”

Dean was crying, a stare fixed at the crosses on the neighboring island.

He didn’t want to look at McJones anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to settle his gaze on a face overridden with distress. Even then, he felt McJones settle beside him.

“It’s about Barry and Caddy, isn’t it?” McJones mused softly.

Yes, it was, but Dean didn’t want to acknowledge so. If Professor McJones could figure it out by himself, then he’d let him.

“Listen, Dean,” McJones began calmly. “I know that their deaths were something horrid to witness-“

“It was right in front of my fucking face. Both of them.” Dean spat suddenly, tears overflowing.

“You couldn’t control it, Dean. They made mistakes,” McJones calmly tried to reason. Dean felt a palm settle on his shoulder. Per usual, Dean felt himself begin to melt into the touch, but he didn’t want that to seem obvious.

“I…I know… but, I was _right_ with them… I could’ve done something.” Dean took a shaky breath. “I could’ve gone in front instead of Barry. I could’ve warned or shouted at Caddy. I could’ve used my bow. I-I could’ve-“

“Dean, _please_ -“ McJones began, softer than ever before, but Dean cut him off.

“ _YOU WERE ABOUT TO **DIE** RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY STUPID FACE AS WELL, STEWART!!_ ” Dean roared, flailing on the grass to turn and face McJones. His face felt hot, whether from his blush or the tears, he didn’t know. “ _THERE, THAT’S WHAT’S FUCKING WRONG._ ”

McJones recoiled, face darkening. It was silent for a few moments, besides the crash of waves on the shoreline below.

Dean was frozen. Even he hadn’t expected such an outburst from himself. Where had his composure gone? He felt himself mentally collapse as he shifted his gaze down.

Finally, McJones straightened up. Dean was at first afraid that McJones was going to get up and leave; a feeling of dread and loneliness prematurely settling in.

However, this didn’t seem to be the case.

 “Dean, look at me,”

Dean felt a gentle hand cup both his cheek and chin, involuntarily flinching at the touch. His face was slowly shifted up, his gaze resting on McJones’ yet again. There was something different about his eyes now; the worry was replaced by something different. …Love? …Sincerity.

Another hand gently cupped Dean’s other cheek, slowly beginning to wipe away tears. “Dean, I’m here now, and I’m alive. Would you care to guess why?”

Dean shuddered, his small voice cracking. “…Why…?”

“It’s because you did something. **_You_** _did something,_ ” McJones softly responded. He circled his thumbs over Dean’s cheeks, stroking them and gently wiping the tears away.

Dean took what McJones said and pondered it. He did something; he saved him just in time. He did something _right_.

“Yes, Barry and Caddy may be gone now, but what happened to them was in a blur and in the past,” McJones said consolingly, though, a little tight. “We have to keep looking ahead to our goal. And I have the pleasure of being able to do so thanks to you, Dean.”

Dean nodded weakly, the movement causing McJones to slowly withdraw his hands from Dean’s face. Most of Dean’s tears were gone now, but he felt a part of him ache as the soothing touch left his cheeks.

McJones smiled a little, his cheeks tinged lightly with a familiar pink. “What do you say to heading inside now?”

At the sight of McJones’ smile, Dean felt himself begin to follow suite, though, a part of him longed for just a few more moments of soothing ministrations. “Sure, but, before we do, could you…” Dean suddenly felt his voice drop out of existence.

This was something they did almost every time they were alone, which, while the times were few and far between, made Dean happier than ever. Still, it was an awkward request, both for when asking and being on the receiving end. However, Dean needed it.

McJones eyes darted around, frequently hesitating at the pathway down the rocky bluffs of the island to their front door. Finally, he sighed, and his eyes settled on Dean.

Dean expected McJones to say something, or there to be a verbal cue, but not even a second had passed before he felt a hand brush over his hair, settling behind his ear, and a pair of lips take his own.

Dean always melted at Stewart’s touch, no matter what it was.  From a simple brushing of shoulders to a desperate grab at his arm; it all elicited the same reaction. However, there was nothing like a kiss from Stewart; warm, soft, perfect. There was nothing like a hand gently running through his hair, fingers getting lost in the curls. And, there was nothing like slowly wrapping his arms around Stewart’s neck, the motion causing him shift his position, his lips to part, granting Dean a chance to kiss him deeper. There was nothing like that perfect feeling to Dean, that perfect sequence of events.

They parted to breathe. Dean’s vision was hazy, his eyes half-lidded, his lips quirked into a smile. “Good as always, Stewart~”

McJones gave a breathy grunt. “Fascinating to know that the easiest way to revert you back to your usual mood is to _kiss_ you. Charming.”

“Mmm, I enjoy it quite a lot, I will admit,” Dean said, smirking a bit, shuffling tighter into McJones’ hold.

“Oh, I know what you _also_ enjoy quite a lot~” McJones returned the smirk before taking off his glasses, a very rare act, and leaning forward to press a kiss to Dean’s jaw.

Dean seized up, but tried to keep some semblance of composure. McJones was slow, deliberate even. He pressed small, gentle kisses up Dean's jawline, stopping just beneath his ear. The softness of the gestures melted Dean from the inside out, especially when Stewart began to shift lower, closer. The kisses made their way to Dean’s taunt neck all the way down to his collarbone, Stewart pulling aside Dean’s cloth collar to do so. The expanse of Dean’s neck and shoulders were exposed, Stewart taking full advantage of such, nestling his face comfortably there.

Dean quietly shrieked with giddy joy and love. The passes of Stewart’s lips and soft stubble on his neck and collarbone made Dean swoon. The nuzzles felt perfect; _Stewart_ was perfect.

Dean wanted this to go on forever, however, sudden shouts interrupted the soft exchange.

“ ** _DEAN! MCJONES! ARE YOU GUYS COMING INSIDE??_** ” Austin’s voice suddenly rang. “ ** _DAY ISN’T GONNA COME UNLESS WE GO NIGHT-NIGHT!_** ”

McJones shot up, surprised and scrambling for his glasses. However, Dean rolled his eyes and took the responsibility of responding. “ ** _WE’LL BE DOWN IN A SEC, NERD!_** ”

Once they both heard the door slam shut, Dean shared a glance with McJones, who, in a flustered rush, was struggling with slipping his glasses back on.

“Hey, we got those new beds set up!!” Dean winked. Peace settled within him as he smiled, finally feeling like himself again.

McJones was bright red, struggling to regain composure. “Oh, yeah, those beds are all set up in a row. Austin’s gonna be a joy to sleep next to, I’ll tell you what…” he grumbled.

“Hey, we’ll pick an end and make it our cuddle corner, how about that?” Dean laughed, beginning to stand up on wobbly, half-asleep legs.

“Compensation; sounds like a plan Dean,” McJones stood up as well, giving a bit of a smile, letting a hand slip down to lace through Dean’s.

The pair began to make their way down the grassy bluffs of the island, towards one of the several doors to their irregular house. As they did so, Dean felt himself peering one last time at the two graves, the moonlight directly above giving the glossy textures of the stones a heavenly illumination.

Dean felt a hand squeeze his own and met McJones’ eyes. Stewart gave a smile, this time, one of hope, and Dean couldn’t help but lean forward to press a kiss to that smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I can write S4 fanfiction WITHOUT Shrek jokes!!
> 
> Also, I would die for McJones and Dean.


End file.
